Sleep would not come easily that night.
Aria lay awake, her body exhausted but her mind on fire. Kael's steady breathing beside her was no comfort. She stared at the tent ceiling, remembering the beast—the Nightspawn. She could still hear the snap of its jaws and the hissing growl that sounded more human than wolf.
Outside, the wind moaned through the trees like a warning.
She slipped out of the furs, careful not to wake Kael, and stepped into the cool air. The camp was quiet. Only Nyla stood watch, perched on a fallen tree with her crossbow across her knees.
"You feel it too?" Aria asked.
Nyla didn't look at her. "Something's changed. Since the beast. Since… you."
Aria folded her arms. "What do you mean?"
"You're different, Aria. That thing was drawn to your blood. And you—when you slashed it, your claws glowed. That's not normal."
"I don't know what's happening to me."
"You're becoming who you were meant to be."
---
Morning brought a new visitor.
A tall, broad-shouldered man with a gray beard and sharp, predatory eyes stood at the camp's edge. A long rifle slung across his back. A leather duster hung from his shoulders like the mantle of an old general.
Kael was first to approach. "State your name and purpose."
The stranger didn't flinch. "Name's Darius. I was a friend of General Vale. I served under him in the Iron Fang War. Before Mircella turned him in."
Aria stepped forward, her heart stammering. "You knew my father?"
Darius nodded. "He told me if anything happened to him, and his daughter ever called the wind, I'd find her."
Kael's stance didn't soften. "You expect us to believe that?"
"I expect you to watch me fight before making judgments."
He tossed a medallion to Aria. She caught it, gasping. Her father's crest.
Tears stung her eyes. "He always wore this…"
"I buried him myself. With honor."
That night, Kael remained guarded, but Aria felt a strange peace.
Darius didn't speak much. But when he did, it was with wisdom earned through pain.
"We're up against more than swords and teeth," he said by the fire. "Mircella's working old blood magic. Forbidden things. There's a ritual she's preparing for the Blood Moon. If she finishes it, every rogue wolf she touches will fall under her control."
Aria's eyes hardened. "Then we can't let her finish it."
---
That evening, Kael and Aria argued in whispers.
"You don't know him. You barely know anything about him."
"He knew my father."
"Or he says he did. I've seen people twist memories for power."
"He gave me my father's medallion, Kael. He knew things no one else could."
Kael ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I just don't want you to get hurt."
"I won't. Not with you beside me."
He looked at her then, a storm behind his eyes, and closed the space between them.
Their kiss was fierce. Desperate. Hungry.
Their hands explored familiar places with new urgency. Kael's mouth found her throat, her collarbone, and her soft moans were swallowed by the fabric of the tent. He laid her back onto the furs, undressing her slowly this time, savoring her like a man starved.
She cried his name more than once, her nails raking his back. They moved like fire and thunder, the heat between them impossible to tame. When they finally collapsed together, gasping, she whispered, "Don't protect me from the truth. Stand with me in it."
And Kael answered, "Always."
---
But outside, something else was stirring.
Nyla was on patrol when she saw the flicker of movement.
She raised her crossbow—and lowered it.
Because standing across the glade, dressed in shadowy crimson robes, was someone she'd thought dead.
Lira.
Smiling.
Nyla stepped forward. "You're alive."
Lira's smile twisted. "Alive, reborn… what's the difference?"
Nyla raised her weapon. "You betrayed us."
Lira's eyes burned red. "I only went where the power called."
Before Nyla could fire, Lira disappeared into smoke.
Back in camp, Aria woke with a jolt.
Her dreams had returned.
Only this time, they ended with a whisper.
A sister, forged in blood.
A weapon in waiting.
You are not the only heir to the Vale.
To be continued...